I wrote this poem for the most important person in my life- the one who carried me, in many ways and through so many waves- my mother.
Thank you to After Happy Hour Review for giving it a home.
Ever since I took that trip with my mom to Punta Cana, I’ve been asking her to travel with me again. Though I already have a great relationship with my parents, I especially value our time together as we all get older. To my surprise, she finally said yes! (Maybe because this was a domestic trip, for once? Haha.)
We flew into Portland on Thursday evening. She had never seen whales in real life and wanted to see them, so we opted for a cruise that next day. Of course, we had to get our first fresh lobster roll beforehand!
We got lucky and saw three fin whale, and a couple harbor seals! And, of course, the famous Portland Head Lighthouse.
Walking around Portland/Old Port: Portland Observatory, Eastern Promenade, East End Beach, Fish Point, Fort Allen Park, Lincoln Park, Wadsworth-Longfellow House, Bug Point, etc.
Our favorite spots to eat included: DiMillo’s on the water, Becky’s Diner, Portland Lobster Company, The Holy Donut, Gilbert’s Chowder House, and so many more.
The next day, we rented a car and drove to Acadia National Park.
Such a beautiful day! Highlights included: Eagle Lake, Sand Beach, Cadillac Mountain, Thunder Hole, among others.
We took a ferry to one of the many islands surrounding Portland the next day. We opted for Peaks Island and enjoyed blueberry soda while soaking up some rays. We didn’t know that wild blueberries grow naturally here- 44,000 acres, to be exact.
Coastal Maine is surely a sight for sore eyes, and there’s no other person I’d rather soak in that beauty with then my incredible mother. I know we’ll both cherish this time together in years to come.
Until next time,
My mom gave me life, so the least I can do is take her on an all-inclusive vacation, right?
I’d been pushing her to do a mother/daughter trip with me for quite some time, and finally, the opportunity presented itself at the beginning of this month. Last Thursday through Sunday (Mother’s Day), we headed to Punta Cana in the Dominican Republic for the blue beach, to bask in the sun and
bronze burn our booties.
Right away, it was an adventure. We were greeted at the airport and escorted to the shuttle that would take us to our resort, where we met a couple visiting Punta Cana for their third time. Turns out they knew my aunt and uncle. You may think, how does that even happen?! But growing up in a small town, and attending a small college, showed me years ago how strong connections can be and how fast they spread. I can’t say I was even fazed.
And then my mom (making conversation, of course) asked them the question: “Are the native people here really poor?” Embarrassed, I tried to shush her, but she went on, loudly. “They seem really poor.” All in earshot of our driver, who was clearly a native of the country. *face palm*
It was like that scene from Mean Girls.
A small part of me worried what I was getting into, but I just laughed. This was going to be a trip! We got dropped off at our hotel and were greeted with a flute of cold sparking juice and damp, cool washcloths to put on our necks to relieve us from the heat. My mom, as you can see, was in heaven. “I’m never leaving!” she exclaimed. Below, you can see the photos of our hotel and beach areas. (That flamingo was kind of a bitch.)
Although mom doesn’t drink, she was loving the non-alcoholic cocktails and smoothies. Every day, she’d say, Let’s get a drink. Oh gosh, I sound like such a lush! We spent the majority of our time relaxing at the beach laying out or under the shade of the bed, or hanging out in our VIP pool.
Steps to vacation: Eat, drink, relax, swim, sleep, repeat.
Then my childhood dream came true on Friday- I swam with a dolphin in the ocean. Absolutely everything I thought it’d be! They are such powerful, playful, and beautiful mammals. Posters and knickknacks of them used to cover my bedroom from wall to wall growing up, and here I was, actually kissing them, swimming with them, having them jump over me. Surreal. Like a true mother, my mom’s enjoyment came out of just watching my excitement.
As amazing as the views were, the best part of the trip was the talks we’d have before bed. Mom told me some stories from her childhood, how her parents didn’t have money, and things she had done for fun. I told her my fears, my summer plans, vented about my “problems.” She listened intently, giving advice like only she can do. We talked about my future: traveling, kids (no), marriage. Her regrets, and aging.
We never think about our parents getting older until we notice small things- forgetting something we told them, not being able to walk as far, needing glasses to read, getting frustrated with trying to teach them technology, my mom reading lips because she was struggling to hear me, etc. I have this irrational fear that because my mom handles literally EVERYTHING for our family and constantly has a mind that never stops running, that she’ll develop Alzheimer’s, though I know that’s not how it works.
She mentioned, with tears in her eyes, that her mother would have never done something like this with her. She had died when I was six, and to be honest, I don’t remember much of her. It hit me then that my mother was also a daughter. Crazy as it sounds, I forget that beyond being a mother and a wife, she is a daughter. She is a woman who does not need to be defined by her roles. A woman who probably, even at 61, still has those empty spaces in her heart from the ones she has lost. A woman who still has dreams and needs and sadness and really tough days where she doesn’t know what the hell to do. A woman who ignores those feelings because so many depend on her strength. That thought made me feel so guilty. I had been blind for so long. So insincere and thoughtless as a teenager, so selfish. So blissfully unaware of how lucky I am to have her.
People talk about how their mother is the glue that holds their family together…mine is the nails used to build us, the glue that keeps us, and the duct tape when all else fails. She has been my backbone in a lot of ways, and I can’t picture a world with her not in it. My parents have worked their entire lives to provide a better life for my brother and I, and even in their sixties, they are moving firewood, taking care of my grandparents, managing three properties, and still picking up the phone when I call. As they near retirement (jealous) my hope for them is that they are able to relax and enjoy themselves.
Now that we’re back in rainy PA, I’m reflecting on this trip and I know that was one of the reasons for going- for everything my mother has given me, it’s always been my dream to give back. Since I can’t buy her a house, or a brand new car, I figured my time and this experience would suffice. Another lifetime couldn’t be long enough to learn from and be loved by you.
I love you mom, hope you had a wonderful Mother’s Day. I’m always missing you.
Leave nothing but footprints,
take nothing but pictures,
kill nothing but time.
Great news! My poem “All Safeties Off” was published in Pittsburgh City Paper.
Check it out here.
All Safeties Off
It was Christmas Day in our backyard
when I first shot my dad’s hunting rifle —
felt it kick back into my shoulder as he looked on,
as shells went flying.
I fingered the trigger,
breathed the weight of it all
burning hot metal
swallowing painted targets
my shaky hands steadying & aiming —
all safeties off.
And I thought, here I am
deep in December — sweating
there was something
within the chamber
I couldn’t point to
barreling through me just the same
& the weapon clicks
white knuckle grip
I need to reload, but what’s the point
if all my ghosts wear bulletproof vests
& don’t understand the word no
& my dad yells, Bull’s eye!
& I drop
Tuesday, July 2. 2013
We set off for Marineland early in the morning. It reminded me of Waldameer‘s water park (in Erie, PA). We first went to the dolphin show, and then stayed in the kiddie pool the rest of the afternoon. I went down a couple water slides with Jordi and Mar. For lunch, we had ham sandwiches (“bikinis”) and also got gelato before making the trip home. It was an exhausting day for all. Once back home, Jordi put together a more traditional Mediterranean meal. This was interesting… Sonsa? I believe it was called- very skinny fish that were ingested whole. Except…the eyes were still there. Now, I am not a particularly picky eater, and I will try anything once. And it was good! But I could not get past the fact that I was eating this fish with its eyes still there. I swear it was staring at the back of my throat as I swallowed it. Next, I talked with JJ for quite a while. (For those of you unfamiliar, he is the man in the picture on my post The Foundation. We were friends from college that kept in touch the entire time during my five months abroad, and are now dating!) It was so good to hear his voice! He always makes me laugh. Here’s our conversation about my dinner:
Later on, Jordi and I went to the supermarket. He told me I could pick up whatever I needed. Embarrassed, I put tampons, shampoo, and a razor in the cart. I said a silent prayer thanking God that I would finally have a razor- because I needed one more than life! And I’ll shamelessly admit that I couldn’t read the labels on the bottles in the shower, so I am not entirely confident what I have been washing my hair/body with these past couple days…
At the supermarket, it was shocking to see the switch between fresh and processed foods. Jordi took me walking through the weekly food market downtown where you can buy local fruit and vegetables. “This is how you know it’s fresh,” he said, motioning to an insect crawling through a head of lettuce. “It’s straight from the garden because these are still there.” He also showed me what the good price of meat is and some esteemed fish markets in Costa Brava. I felt like…I needed to not eat so much processed crap. And that I really should learn to cook, like him. He also made gazpacho, which looks like a delicious smoothie, but is made with with raw vegetables.
After we returned to the house, the kids and I went to the pool upstairs at their grandparents’ house. I don’t think that Jordi’s dad likes me too much. He seems very uptight and is not warm to me. Perhaps he thinks that having a stranger be an au pair here is a mistake, and that I am just another mouth to feed. Or, that I am just a young American girl that is incapable of being any help as a teacher to the children because of my inability to speak Catalan, and their young age. Whatever the reason, I can’t deny that this stings.
Now it is late, but I just got off Skype with my mom. She is sending me a package with more toiletries, necessities,and iPad accessories (since I fried the other ones). I am so grateful! Who would have thought that I’d ever be so happy to have such simple items? (Now, I was far from destitute, and I had saved up plenty of money from my first job after college to buy whatever I did need, but I just hadn’t had the chance to go to the store to replenish my own items, or didn’t pack them in the first place for other reasons.) Cliche as it sounds, the one thing I have learned quickly is that the things I truly need in this life are few, and plain and simple. I have neglected to remember that, but was reminded when my mom drove to Pittsburgh to help me prepare for this move.
We were finishing packing my backpack and boxing the rest of the stuff into storage when she said, “You have two boobs and there’s seven days in a week. Why do you have so many freaking bras?!” I love that woman.
But in all honesty, she’s right. What is it all for? I don’t need two closets full of clothes. I don’t need the latest technology, designer handbags, or more items that clutter my life. You can’t take these things with you when you go.
Just give me the sound of my mother’s voice (and maybe some clearly labeled shampoo) and I’m golden.
The strength of this woman is unmatched. She didn’t want to let her baby girl get on a plane to Europe alone, and she certainly didn’t understand it, but she still stood by me. She’s my backbone.